Power is...

...Sadly lacking from my phone. It's nearly 3 years old: I extended my contract with 3 on the same handset and now the battery is shot to shit. It won't even accept a charge from the mains or external batteries. I'm now stuck with this Xperia until October, unless someone- presumably at 3 or elsewhere maybe- offers me a deal on a new handset.

I'm a bit annoyed at 3 that they didn't tell me, “Don't extend your contract a full year: your handset won't survive that long”. Surely they must know? It's not like I've been smashing it against a wall or anything.

I NEED it for blogging, though, and as a result of it not working, this week's roundup will be short. Today I've found a local repair shop that say they can replace the battery for £25. Fingers crossed.

Saturday night: a night with Manchester Posh Bars, a great but sporadic meetup group for those who want to visit the classier places Manchester has to offer. Meeting in the bar area of Peter St's classy Japanese restaurant Sakana, the group swelled into double figures. Posh Bars may not upload often but when they do the attendee list packs out immediately, so we had a busy crowd of familiar meetup people. Moving on to celeb haunt LIV on Peter St, we lost one person at the door due to dress code.

Whether you're in a Meetup or not, if you're going to a club in a city you can gauge the dress code by checking the venue's Facebook and looking through their albums. You obviously have your own style, but check that it'll match the club's.

We'd booked guest list in advance, so entry was free for us. On the way in I was frisked by security. The doorman confiscated a ballpoint pen, because “I could stab someone with it,” but he didn't mind- or maybe spot- the small Swiss army knife attached to my keys. Bizarre. So I had nothing to make notes with, and my phone's battery- including with the use of an external charger- wouldn't allow me to make notes there either. Also I had no way of taking pictures or videos. I didn't bother mentioning to the doorman my memory difficulties and that pen being a requirement for me, but whatever. From memory...

Drinks were competitively dear, no more so than the likes of Milton Club or Spinningfields bars. Contemporary RnB blasted out onto the packed dance floor, which was populated mostly by incredibly good-looking people. There was SO much silicone on display.

It's a hotspot for celebrity birthday bashes. You can spot the actors or actresses by following the entourage of sparklers and over-sized bottles of champagne being paraded through the club- sometimes in a glass tank, other times in a sit-in toy car- from the bar to the recipient. Promo staff are normally dressed as bunnies or Darth Vader, and they'll dish out masks of tigers and unicorns for revelers to wear while they're sipping their sparkler-accessorised Bollinger. I didn't recognise anyone in there, but it turns out, according to the Manchester Evening News,  Leigh-Anne Pinnock from pop group Little Mix was celebrating- presumably a warmup for her performance at Key 103's Summerlive the next day.

Pictures from the night are on their Facebook album. 

The club's clientele- guys and girls- were a friendly bunch, not as pretentious as some might think. I got chatting to random people here and there. One girl came up to me with what looked like a playing card. On the reverse of it was written, “Get a hot guy to buy you a drink.” A fantastic way of not paying for a single drink all night, in retrospect. I was flattered though, and took her to the bar. She told me what she wanted but by the time I'd got to the front of the queue I'd typically forgotten her order. I looked back for her but she was nowhere to be seen. I couldn't even remember what she looked like, and I (presumably) didn't see her again all night. Well, that was money-savingly absurd.

Fantastic venue and evening. Keep your eyes peeled on Manchester Social Group. I'll probably replicate the event over there soon.